The Prince of Winter
by CBIWT
Summary: Eddard Stark thought that only he and Howland Reed knew the truth of Jon Snow's birth. He was wrong. AU-Ser Gerold Hightower's former squire tells Jon Snow that he is the last son of Rhaegar Targareyen.
1. Chapter 1

A Typical Day

I'd thought it would be a typical day of studies with Maester Luwin and training with the gruff but fair Master-of-Arms Ser Rodrik Cassell. I'd bested Robb in practice and was feeling the elation of victory when Theon Greyjoy mocked my look of happiness.

"No matter how well you swing the sword, you'll always be a bastard and never be Robb's better." He smirked at me and walked away, his comment not loud enough for anyone else to hear.

My happiness left me suddenly and I was filled with anger and grief simultaneously. Theon was always going out of his way to throw my bastard status in my face but there was little I could do about it. I did my best to ignore him though he must have seen my face fall. I felt a boiling rage begin to build up and left in a hurry. Any who saw the look on my face left me to to my own devices, for which I was thankful.

I headed towards the Mikken's smith to use the anger I'd built up from Theon's comments and my own tormented thoughts when a man I didn't recognize came up to me and said something I'd craved to hear my entire life.

"I know you wish to know how you came to be born lad. And I can tell you the whole story as best I know it if you come to the Wintertown Inn later this evening. Tell no one I've spoken to you about this less you wish to miss the opportunity to learn about your Mother. Best you say I'm a sellsword or hedgeknight who offered to tell you a few stories of his adventures"

I was staring at this man in shock. He spoke with a southron accent though I couldn't place the region. Before I could ask him any questions he'd walked off as if we'd just chatted about the weather or horses. He looked to be well dressed for a sellsword though I'd heard that some men earned enough gold to live like Lords in the east.

I did my best to conform my features into a look of nonchalance upon entering Mikken's shop, worried that someone might question why I was at once elated, frightened, and angry. I quickly did the maintenance required to keep my practice blade in the best condition possible. Mikken was hard at work on the forge and those that entered paid me no mind.

A million thoughts entered my mind as I left towards my quarters, only stopping to ask one of the servants if a bath might be prepared. Who was this strange man from the South and how was it that he knew my mother? I knew that I had been born in Dorne and that many thought my mother was Ashara Dayne, but that was a name that was never to be spoken in Winterfell. Even when I'd been brave enough to ask my Father who'd birthed me I didn't dare speak that name. The response I'd gotten from him still kept me from asking years later.

"You'll learn who your mother was when I think you're old enough to hear the whole story. Never ask me about this again Jon." Some men shouted or threatened to make their point, but my Lord Father never needed to do so convey his authority. He'd spoke quietly in a tone as a cold as Winter itself, and I hadn't spoken of my mother to him since.

Who was this stranger that risked the wrath of the Warden of the North? I knew that I should speak to my Father about this stranger who offered me the knowledge I'd been craving ever since I'd learned that I was a bastard and not like my other siblings. I was only ten and four and thought myself plenty ready to hear the history of my mother and father. My Father was wrong for withholding the information from me. I was going to go to the Inn in Wintertown and if any asked me why, I'd say that I wanted to hear stories from a sellsword staying there.


	2. Chapter 2

The World Shifts

I walked into the inn alone, grateful that no one had accosted me on my way into Wintertown but not surprised. I'd bested Robb and though we loved each other fiercely we were also rivals. Anyone who would have questioned my decision to go into Wintertown were occupied with the feast planned for the evening. Lord Karkstark was present and he'd brought both his heir and his daughter. The young maiden would no doubt be doing her best to charm Robb while ignoring the resident bastard, a thought that would have rubbed me the wrong way if I wasn't about to finally find out who my mother was.

The Inn was relatively empty, only a few merchants, some smallfolk, and a few guardsmen. Many recognized me and gave me the queer mixture of deference and indifference I garnered due my status as a favored son of Eddard Stark who happened to be a bastard by birth. T

The man was alone in the farthest corner, no serving maid near him though he had two cups of ale. He stood with a smile and welcomed me then said.

"Welcome Jon Snow. I'm glad you came. I saw your skill in the yard and wanted to let you know that in Essos your bastard status wouldn't be an issue if you chose to sell your sword. It's not considered a noble profession here, but if you restrict your services to merchants from Braavos and Pentos you help out the only two free cities who have banned slavery. And in Braavos, a man's destiny is his own more than any other place in the known world."

I nodded along as if this was what I was hoping to hear, wondering why he would act like this was what he'd invited me to speak with me. Perhaps he _did_ care about inciting the wrath of my Lord Father and was doing his best to dissuade any listening ears from prying in on our conversation.

"Finish your ale lad, I'll pay and we'll retire to my room so I can show you some of the various things I've collected in my travels. This way I can show you all that you can earn as a sellsword. You'll see I'm not speaking falsely about the opportunities available."

As we left the first story I noticed one of the guards from Winterfell watching us both go upstairs. I excused myself to use the privy as I felt a need to collect myself. The guard who'd been watching us exchanged a few words with the nameless "Sellsword" . His facial expression told me he'd not been saying anything complimentary to the strange Southron man.

I left the privy then followed the man to his quarters.

"The guard warned me that even a bastard son of Eddard Stark had too much honour to become a 'plaguing sellsword', and that I was wasting my time. I am no sellsword. Although it pains me to play the mummer, I could think of no other way to present myself without attracting too much attention. I am Ser Own Costayne. I was squire to the Lord Commander of the Kingsguard, Ser Gerold Hightower."

He said this in quite severe tone that brooked no argument. I noticed that he seemed pained when he spoke the Ser Gerold's name. He paused as if to collect himself, his face that of a man who was feeling intense emotions. He managed to maintaine a sense of calm through sheer force of will.

"You know that the War of the Usurper ended with the murder of the Princess Elia and her children? And that after this Lord Stark rode to Dorne to find his sister. There he battled three Knights of the Kingsguard; Ser Gerold Hightower, Ser Arthur Dayne, Ser Oswald Whent. It is shocking to me how many fail to question _why_ three Knights of the Kingsguard were in Dorne after Prince Rhaegar's death. You are the reason they were present."

I interrupted him then

"I don't need a history lesson on Robert's Rebellion Ser. What do I have to do with three Kingsguard Knights?" I was angry and raised my voice as I said this.

He silenced me by raising a finger to his lips.

"Lower your voice! Let me finish and you'll come to understand." He looked at me waiting for me to agree to his demands and I nodded though I was angry and confused.

"At this point the Kingsguard members there did not consider Aerys to be their King. Rhaegar was their King, and so they were bound by their oath to protect his heir. They'd learned that all of his children by the Princess Elia were murdered and so stayed to protect his only remaining heir. The babe in Lyanna's belly. You."

I was so shocked that when I opened my mouth to deny it my voice failed me.

Ser Owen continued.

"I know this because I met Princess Lyanna in Dorne. I came with Ser Gerold to Dorne after Aerys had ordered the Lord Commander to find Prince Rhaegar. He had taken her as his second wife, believing he needed to have a third child. She was more than willing to go with him, all the stories told about him abducting her were a false tale told by liars."

I shook my head fiercely.

"You're lying. Eddard Stark is my father, he wouldn't lie to me! If you were a squire to Gerold Hightower why are you still living? I can't believe I-"

"I lived because I was forced to leave the Tower of Joy after falling ill. I'd gotten the Spring Fever, and Ser Gerold feared I might infect the others. I was a danger to the pregnant Princess, and so I was sent to Starfall and told not to return until I was summoned. They worried I might give their location away. They had one of the servants take me in a small wagon which they'd used to bring supplies, and no one asked questions in Starfall."

As he spoke I saw a man who had lost his life's purpose due to tragedy. He spoke like a man who was doing his utmost to reclaim that purpose and yet believed that he might yet fail. I was struck dumb by the story he was telling me.

"Lord Stark lied to protect you. If Robert Baratheon learned Rhaegar had left a child behind, he'd have you killed. It is said that he _smiled_ when he looked upon the corpses of the Princess Elia and her children. He called them _dragonspawn, as if they weren't_ _human!_ "

He spit out the last sentence with such hatred that I flinched. He calmed himself then continued-

"That is the reason speaking about your mother is _forbidden._ Don't you think it is odd that Lord Stark _refuses_ to discuss it with you? It is too painful. The whole war, the death of Brandon and Rickard Stark, all because of a lie that your sister had been abducted. No doubt he learned the truth at the Tower. I swear this story to be truth, upon the Old Gods who are not mine and the New Gods who failed me I swear it. I am loyal to you, your Grace. You are Rhaegar's only living heir. Whatever you would have me do, I would do it."

He said this like a man making an oath to the Gods.

"How can I know that you are speaking true Ser? This could be a lie meant to-"

I didn't know what purpose he might have in lying to me. What would he gain? If it were a lie my father- My-  
I couldn't even process the implications of all that this man was saying. I stood and made to flee when he grabbed me-

"Listen to me carefully. You must not speak about this to anyone, unless you _know_ you are alone with Lord Stark. Ask him if all I've said is true. Ask him to swear upon the old gods that this story is false. Be careful, your life and the life of your kin would be endangered if the Usurper learned that his friend had kept the last child of Rhaegar Targereyen alive."

I felt tears begin to fall down my face and I began to shake my head. I felt like I was drowning and realized I'd stopped breathing.

"You _must_ calm down! Breathe!"

I took deep breaths and sat down gasping. Ser Owen continued to attempt to calm me.

"Remember, you _cannot_ scream or shout or yell about this. It is never my place to order you but I tell you this because you would put your life and the life of everyone you care about in danger. Best you find a way to be discreet; Lord Stark will either refuse to confirm this story or attempt to lie. That is why you must force him to swear it upon the Old Gods. Tell him that you must speak with him in private in the Godswood. There you will have privacy and he will have no choice but to refuse to speak on it or confirm this story."

I dried my tears, splashed some drinking water on my face and sat in silence for the better part of an hour.

When I finally felt calm enough to leave for Winterfell, I had no words for the so-called Knight who'd upended so much of what I thought to be true. I arrived forty minutes later, went directly to the Great Hall, where the feast had lead to dancing and drinking. I walked up to my Fath-to Lord Stark who was speaking with Lord Karkstark.

"Pardon me My Lords." They both looked at me with queer expressions on their face. I suppose that I looked out of sorts.

"Yes Jon? Is something amiss?" I was too overwhelmed to control myself and blurted out

"I cannot speak of it now. I never ask for much, my Lord, but if you could accompany me to the Godswood this evening, or at some point on the morrow, I would be much obliged."

Lord Rickard excused himself after a look from his liege lord and suddenly we were alone.

"What's this about Jon? Not ten minutes ago, one of the guards informed me that you had been speaking to a sellsword. What were you doing with a man like that, and what happened between the two of you that has you in this state?"

I closed the small distance that separated us, then whispered into his ear.

"I've just been told that you're my uncle."

I stepped back to look at his reaction. He looked like he'd seen a ghost. The blood on his face drained away completely, and he almost staggered. He opened his mouth but no sound came out and I knew then that the man who I'd idolized and wished to be like had lied to me my entire life.

"Wha-?"

He composed himself then, and the face I hadn't seen since I'd asked about my mother came to him. But before he could speak I walked away.

"Lord Stark. When you have time, please, the Godswood. That is the only place I will speak to you about this."

"You do not walk away from me Jon!"

I froze, then turned to face him.

"My Lord. If I stay here a moment longer I'm not sure I will be able to control myself. Please give me leave."

He looked like a man who was preparing to battle to the death, full of tension, fear, and anger.

He didn't even say a word. He looked at me for a long moment, nodded then left the Great Hall. His facial expression was severe enough to drive away any who thought of approaching him.

Robb was dancing with Alys Karkstark and any others who might have asked what we'd spoken about were too absorbed in feasting and drinking to ask me. A moment or two passed, then I went into the kitchens and used the servants exit to make my way to my room.

As I changed into my small clothes and went to bed, all I could think on was that my entire life was a lie.


	3. Chapter 3

Confirmation

I barely slept. The sun had yet to fully rise when my Father- when Lord Stark entered my room.

"Ten minutes. Meet me in the Godswood."

I rubbed the sleep out of my eyes and made to get up. By the time I'd confirmed I'd be there he was gone.

I arrived to the Godswood feeling like a man who was lost at sea. We were alone, any that had come to pray making the wise choice to leave after seeing the look on my _Uncle's_ face. As I thought about the implications of the man I'd known to be father being my Uncle in truth I grimaced and felt another wave of nausea overtake man who I'd worshipped my entire life had lied to me. For my own protection, I understood. But knowing that did nothing to stop the storm of emotions taking place inside me.

I sat next to the man who I'd called father all my life and waited for him to speak. His back was stiff and his face held the icy visage I'd come to call his "Lord's face."

"Who was the man that told you..that you are my nephew? How did he convince you of such an incredible story?"

Was he going to try to deny it? I scoffed at the idea of him doing so and frowned.

"His name is Ser Owen Costayne. He was a squire to Ser Gerold Hightower, but was not present when you arrived because he had been forced to leave due to illness. They worried that he might infect the others present. He claims to have told no one for fear of the truth getting me killed. I would hear the story from you, _Uncle._ "

I said this without any emotional inflection in my voice save the last word. I took a deep breath, closed my eyes and attempted to regain control of myself.

"I wish I could tell you that he lied to you. I cannot do so. He was right that the truth could get you and everyone you love killed. I'm sorry I was forced to lie to you, but I am not sorry that I did. You understand why I had to do it?"

I stiffened, then shook my head. The storm of emotions that had been plaguing me since Ser Owen had told me the truth overwhelmed me.

"Aye, I know why you had to do it. You had to tell this lie because Robert Baratheon had siblings I never knew murdered, and you feared he'd order me killed as well. It galls me to think that you speak highly of this man. He would have me killed for being _Rhaegar's son_ , but allowed _Balon Greyjoy's_ son to be your ward. The Ironborn are murderers and rapists and thieves. The Targareyen's _built_ the Seven Mad King murdered my Grandfather and Uncle. But no one can claim that House Targareyen should only be known for Aerys II or Maegor the Cruel. I understand he hates them with a passion but it was _you_ and the _Starks_ that lost the most. He has _no right_ to feel as he does. He claims to have loved my..my mother but would see her only child murdered. That man...he will _never_ be my King. I don't care for the Iron Throne. It means nothing to me. I just hate being treated as less than others because I've always been known as the Bastard of Winterfell. I would have rather grown up in exile!"

My Uncle's face was filled with grief, pain and anger.

"You know not of what you speak! Your mother begged me to protect you and I have ever kept that vow. Lying to the world, lying to my wife, lying to my _King_!"

"Pardon me. You know nothing about what it means to be a bastard. I am always seen as less than my siblings. Less than even Theon Greyjoy who has no honour, who mocks me for being a bastard. People don't trust me. Aye, it could have been worse I've always known. But now I wonder..what would life have been like if I had grown up with Ser Arthur Dayne and the other members of the Kingsguard. I've never felt like I belong here. And I've always _hated_ being thought of as a bastard. Did you know I planned on never laying with a woman because I didn't want any child to have the experience of growing up a bastard?"

"Who say's you would have been allowed to grow up? You would have been _Jaeherys Targeryen_ and Robert and Tywin Lannister would have done their best to have you murdered. Better you to be alive and thought a bastard, with the realm at peace. Maybe you would have been safe, and the realm would be forced to prepare for another war. There are many who would fight for you, or for the power they might attain from supporting you. I did what I had to do to keep the realm at peace and to keep you alive."

I shook my head...even my _name_ was a lie.

"I understand. The world is not just, and just men lie to protect those they love. But you still claim to be _friends_ with the man who forces this lie to be told. That I cannot understand. How can befriend a man who would kill me if he knew the truth."

My Uncle winced as if I'd struck him. I'd never seen him look weak but for a moment I could see that he was shocked by what I'd said. I continued, wanting him to hurt as I did.

"I know nothing about Robert Baratheon. But you have ever been a just man, and always taught me to be honorable and true. So how is it that an honorable, just man, claims friendship with a man who is so filled with hate that he would look upon the bodies of women and children and _smile?_ He wouldn't have me killed because he was worried about a rival claim to his throne..he'd do it because of his hatred."

 __Clearly these were thoughts he never allowed himself to think. He shook his head, as if he could deny this truth. I watched his face go through guilt, anger, and grief and felt a perverse joy from making him suffer.

"Enough. You have made your point. Now you will swear to me that you will do nothing to endanger the realm or this family. You will swear it upon the Old Gods."

I was shocked at his response. He didn't even argue with me, neither defending the man he named a friend nor the nephew he claimed to love as a son.

"I never expected the North to _support my claim to the Throne_. I love you, even if a part of me _**hates**_ you too. I love Robb, and Arya, and Bran and Rickon and even Sansa. So I will swear it now in front of you and the Old Gods. I will _never_ endanger my family. But I can't stay here as the Bastard of Winterfell or the truth may come out. I will need time away."

"You can go to the Neck. Howland Reed was close with your mother, and it will be easier for him to speak with you about her. There you will not have to risk being caught while talking about your...history. I will supply you with an escort."

I nodded then blurted out a half thought idea.

"Ser Owen will join me. I'd ask for gold enough to support myself until my 16th year. After I leave the Neck I'd atleast like to see Braavos. I'm told that people there care little about birth. Coin they may worship, but there I will be valued on my skills, not my name."

I was as surprised as him when the words came out. Where that idea came from, I'm not sure. At least I would be able to see the world, which was more than most could ever hope for.

He nodded, then we sat together in silence, each of us trapped in our own minds.


	4. Chapter 4

A New Burden

We spent less than forty minutes speaking, yet we stayed beneath the Weirwoods white branches for most of the morning.

It was Robb who broke us out of our melancholy silence. He approached us in the ebullient, carefree way of a young man who feels he has nothing to worry about. When was the last time I'd carried myself that way? Four years ago, when I realized that I'd always be a bastard and thus always be a separate part of the family I loved.

"Father! Jon! How much longer can you pray beneath the weirwood?" As he came nearer to the two of us he finally realized that we were not in the mood for japes or lightheartedness. "Apologies. I had not realized I would be interrupting the two of you. One of the servants tried to warn me but I assumed that he was just intimidated by the two of you praying together. Why such long faces?"

I looked between my _Uncle_ and my brother...-I grimaced then as I realized that just as Eddard Stark wasn't truly my father, neither were my siblings truly brothers and sisters. The silence between the three of us was deafening and I struggled to come up with a something that would explain the mood the two of us were in. Before I was able to piece together something my Uncle spoke.

"Jon and I were discussing his place here in Winterfell. He knows that you and your siblings will always recognize him as a brother, yet he realizes that he must go out into the wider world if he wishes to make a name for himself. Ten and Four is too young to go exploring the world alone , though the two of us think we have managed to come up with a solution that works to keep Jon safe during his..travels, while affording him the independence he craves."

Robb looked between the two of us, a wide-eyed expression on his face.

"Brother...what's this about? You've decided to leave Winterfell? Has something happened between you and my mother?"

I frowned and shook my head at the two of them. I was no mummer and wasn't capable of pretending to be one, but then I realized I wouldn't have to lie to explain myself.

"Robb..I have no choice in this. I am no Stark. The love I have for you and the other members of House Stark will never change this. I have never experienced life outside of Winterfell's walls.. I met a man who has traveled throughout Essos as a sellsword. He's earned a good living doing this, and claims to have never needed to take work that would be considered dishonorable." I trailed off after this, not knowing what else I should say.

Robb shook his head before replying. "A life as a sellsword? And you've agreed to this Father?"

"I did not agree that Jon would become a sellsword. I will pay the man to...travel with Jon, and guard him. This way he is protected and is traveling with a man who knows the Free Cities. We have already decided that they will leave for two years, then return to Winterfell so that Jon might tell us what he has decided to do with his life."

Robb's look of consternation left to be replaced with one of envy. I almost couldn't believe what I was seeing; I'd never seen him look at me with envy before. I'd gotten many looks of understanding, some of pity, and more of love but this was a first.

"Lucky! You get to travel around the Free Cities while the rest of us are here! I can't believe it..that's much better than being a sellsword..its more like you're going on a two year adventure!"

I smiled then, Robb's ignorance and optimism combing to make me smile for the first time since we'd fought our bout the previous day.

"Yes..I suppose all things considered I am lucky.." I smiled at Robb, then at my Uncle."

The hidden meaning behind my words was lost on Robb but not his father. As the three of us spoke, I realized that while I'd grown up a bastard, I'd also grown up in a family that loved me. My Uncle had always treated me as he treated all of his children. He'd done the best he could in the most important ways, and I was finally calm enough to accept the decisions he'd made. I thought about Robb and Arya and Bran, and how they'd always treated me like I was a trueborn brother and accepted that though my life had never been perfect, I'd always been blessed.

"You say that now, brother. I relish the tongue lashing Arya will give the both of you; Jon for leaving on an adventure without her, Father for forbidding her from traveling as well." Robb smirked at the both of us, and we both grinned then frowned at the thought of confronting an irate Arya.

I went directly to the Wintertown Inn to tell Ser Owen of the conversation I'd had with my Uncle. I finally felt some closure now that I'd gotten the story confirmed. I could not call myself happy, but I felt much better about myself than I had since I'd learned I was a bastard. I knew my parents loved eachother, and that I'd been born of that love.

The two of us spoke about the story we'd crafted to explain my decision to leave. Ser Owen had no complaints about posing as a sellsword. He had in fact traveled throughout Essos when he'd learned that my Targereyen relatives had been forced from their home in Braavos. He'd spent two years searching for them before he'd given up.

"Why did you decide to stop searching for them if you knew you'd be waiting for years before approaching me Ser Owen?"

He frowned then replied, "I'd been in Essos for over two years and had several scrapes with bandits and thieves. I was a lone foreigner whose Valyrian marked me as a nobleborn of Westoros . I did not have the resources to always travel with guards. Essos is far too hot to travel in full harness and so I made due with a cuirass underneath a merchants attire. If I was not cautious enough to wear my cuirass I'd be dead today. Twice I was set upon by a group of thieves. The second time I would have died from blood loss or infection if a .. friend I'd made hadn't decided to take care of me. I stumbled into her home after dispatching the three cutthroats and she had me cared for. I accepted that I did not have the resources to continue my search and that my first duty was to you, Your Grace."

I shook my head at his last sentence. "Don't call me that! I'm not a King, no matter what you say!" He adopted an even more severe expression before he replied.

"You are the rightful King of Westoros. I can accept that you are not a King as clearly...Robert Baratheon is the current ruler of the Seven Kingdoms. But you are royalty, you are a deposed Prince at the very least, and you should think of yourself as such as opposed to thinking of yourself as Jon Snow the Bastard of Winterfell. I will only refer to you with your proper titles when we are alone, but I do this so that you might think of yourself as you ought to, Your Grace."

I nodded at him slowly, then returned to Winterfell to begin preparing myself for the long journey ahead. As I was walking along the path that would lead me to the place I'd always thought of as home, I realized then that the burden of being a bastard was being replaced with the burden of being the last living son of the so-called "Last Dragon."

Author's Note: I really don't have any idea about the pairing or "ship" on this story. I'm going to attempt to write a story that is somewhat plausible in the ASoIaF plot is being driven by Jon Snow learning of his parentage early, not my desire to see him paired with one person or another. I really detest the pairing driven plotlines found in most fanfictions. AsOIaF is brilliant because it trolls tropes and clichés and isn't scared of tragedy or violence. It isn't a teen romance book, though if you look at most of the stories available here it seems that the most who post here miss that point. I am using the ages from Game of Thrones. Some of the show elements will be used as well. I might try to and go away from 1st person later on in the story. This is my 1st attempt at writing fiction in years and I know that the quality here is rather poor.


	5. Chapter 5

Saying goodbye to my family had been easy...except for Arya.

"Why can't I go with you? I'll sneak out after you leave, you can wait for me-half a day no more!"

"Arya...little sister, if the decision were mine you'd make this journey with me. Lord Stark is Warden of the North. If you disappeared ravens would be sent and we'd all be dragged back to Winterfell. I'm sorry."

I understood her pain. An outcast, different and apart because she refused to except the role she was meant for. But I knew that there was no way she would be allowed to come with me. She'd screamed and ranted at me after I denied her and only calmed down when I told her I would be finding the places I'd take her if her Father ever tried to betroth her to a man.

"You promise? You'll come back and if they try to sell me off like a a philly, you'll take me away to Essos?"

I nodded solemnly.

"If you should ever have need of me, I'll find you. I promise."

She hugged me fiercely and I knew that in my heart Arya would never be anything but little sister.

The journey to Greywater Watch took twenty and two days though it seemed like an age had passed by the time we arrived.

Ser Owen was harsh but fair in my training when we began. After I told him to do his best to help me become a great warrior like Ser Aemon the Dragonknight he became a nightmare. It only took me half a day to regret the request.

The whole journey was made in full harness. We rode in plate, with chain mail underneath. When we weren't riding, we were sparring. I'd never rode in harness previously and it took much of the joy away in riding. Everything became a struggle as I was pushed beyond my physical limits day after day.

When we arrived in the marshlands of the Neck we could not continue on our horses. We made camp and used a signaling horn in the hopes that the Crannogman would realize we wished to speak with them.

We were sparring at the campsite we'd made two days previously when we realized we had an audience We were approached by would seemed to be a group of spearwielding children.

I realized as they came closer that they were not children, they were short in stature and slight in build and I remembered that the Crannogmen were not known to be as large as other Men in the North.

"I am Jon Snow, son of Eddard Stark, Lord of Winterfell. My father has bid me to come to see the Lord of the Neck, Howland Reed. We would have you guide us there, as we know that this land is treacherous and unknowable for outsiders."

The crannogmen looked at our horses after I made my request. One of them stepped forward while shaking his head.

"Milord, horses will not be able to make the journey. Better that one of you stay and tend to the beasts."

I was half way to asking Ser Owen to stay before he replied.

"We are to remain together by order of Lord Stark. One of you must stay and tend to the horses then. I apologize for the inconvenience and will happily pay silver to whichever of you remains to guard our camp and horses."

The four crannogmen looked amongst each other before the one who had approached us previously nodded.

"I will guide you to Greywater Watch. My companions will guard your horses and campsite. We only ask that you provide food as there is little good hunting or fishing near this place."

Greywater Watch was a keep unlike any other in Westoros. It _floated._ I suppose that it had to as it was built upon marshlands which could become ponds or small lakes depending on the year's rain.

The keep wasn't large compared to Winterfell. It was perhaps the size of the inn where I'd started my journey of self discovery. The knowledge that I was soon to get about my mother brought a smile to my face.

We were brought into a dining hall though it did not seem like the hall of a Lord's keep. The room looked like it could sit thirty people at most. There wer eno banners, no servants, and the furniture and walls were neither fine nor new. I could see why other nobles would look down upon these people, but I refused to. Howland Reed had kept the secret of my birth, and was said to be a close friend of my mother. I would not let prejudice ruin his first impression of me.

Howland entered, trailed by two children. He was shorter than me by half a hand, clean shaven with bright green eyes that seemed to see through me.

"Jon Snow...you're appearance here brings me pleasure though I had not expected it. What brings you to Greywater Watch?"

I opened my mouth to answer when his son spoke.

"He's come to hear the story of the Knight of the Laughing Tree, father."

The little boy who could be no more then six namedays old spoke happily.

I looked down at him and gave him a smile. Howland frowned at the boy.

"My son, Jojen. He's just heard that story. You know how children can be.." He trailed off, but seemed disturbed by what his son had said.

I was confused but did my best not to show it. Children would be children after all..

"I'm sure the story would be a great one, My Lord. I've come to hear stories, that is true-stories of the Lady Lyanna."

At that Howland let out a gasp then nodded solemnly

"That story is a good one to start with then, as it is the story of how I met her. Come along then, I'm assuming your companion knows of the connection between you and the Lady in question."

Ser Owen and I nodded, then we were led to a small room filled to the brim with chests and scrolls.

"Jojen...I need to speak with Jon and his companion alone. Go find your sister Meera. I'll be along later."

-

Short update. Sorry for the delay. My writing feels clumsy and forced as I am having to get through parts of the story I don't really want to write to get to the good stuff.


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